Faith in Him
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Before Manhattan, Phil asked for Bruce's autograph. After Manhattan, they'd both like a little more. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.


"Faith in Him"

"But… but this isn't a form."

"No, it isn't, doctor."

"…This is a photograph of me."

Coulson shrugged minutely. "There are no trading cards for you or the Hulk. So I took a picture from one of your early articles."

Bruce looked from the photograph, back to the agent. "You want me to sign a picture of myself?"

"If you don't mind."

"Can I ask why?"

Coulson shuffled in place, glancing at the floor every so often, before finally making eye contact again.

"I'm hoping to get Captain Amer— Rogers to sign my trading cards," he said. "I work with Barton and Romanov already, so asking them for this would be awkward. Stark doesn't need that kind of encouragement. And Thor is a prince and a god, by all accounts. That leaves you as the only other superhero I know personally. So I would like your autograph." He took a breath. "If, as I said, you don't mind."

"This isn't to stop me from becoming the Other Guy, is it?"

"That would be poor strategy. I can think of several other ways to do that. The foremost strategy would be to leave you alone." He held out his hand. "I'll do that now."

Bruce studied him, especially the rapidly pinking cheeks. He plucked one of the pens out of his shirt pocket, signed the photograph, and handed it back. It was hard not to laugh at the agent's expression of surprise and awe as he stared at the signature. Bruce cleared his throat; Coulson looked up quickly, turning redder.

"Thank you, Dr. Banner," he mumbled. He smiled nervously; but this wasn't the nervousness usually associated with being around Bruce. He left the room quickly, glancing back when he reached the door.

"See you later, Agent Coulson," Bruce said. Coulson ducked his head.

"I hope so, doctor," he said.

* * *

Then Coulson was stabbed, Bruce became the Hulk – twice – and saved Manhattan with the other Avengers.

"He's dead?" Bruce said. Tony nodded silently. "Loki stabbed him, and he's…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"He's critical."

If they weren't so tired, the military half of the Avengers would have leapt to attention at Fury's whip-crack voice. As it was, they stayed sitting, playing with their food, and let the words register.

And it all hit the ceiling.

Before Bruce could hulk out, Steve called for quiet. The owners of the shawarma restaurant looked worried at the superhero near-bust-up against the man with the eye-patch.

"How critical?" Bruce asked, pinning Fury with his gaze. (He hoped.)

"Enough that we felt justified in letting you think that he was dead, since it'll probably soon be a reality," Fury said. "If you think you can do any better than SHIELD's medics, by all means, Dr. Banner. Try your hand at saving Agent Phil Coulson."

"I won't," Bruce said. The others began to protest. "I won't try. I _will_ save him."

"…Now that's more like it, doc," Clint said, clapping him on the back. "Let's go. Helicarrier?" Fury nodded.

"I'll take you there," Tony said. "Thor, can you give us a power boost?"

"Not in here," Natasha and Steve said at the same time.

Outside, Thor hit Iron Man with a bolt of lightning, apparently charging it to six hundred percent. Wary, Bruce let Tony hold onto him, and they shot through the air up to the disguised flying ship.

There was no time to be scared of the Hulk; as soon as Bruce and Tony set foot on the Helicarrier, they were off at a run, only stopping to ask directions to the medical wing. And once in the medical wing, it was on with the scrubs and questioning the other doctors. He noticed Tony getting out of the Iron Man suit and into a set of scrubs himself.

"What're you doing, Stark?"

"Brucey, I'm a genius. I can help you." Bruce looked at him sceptically, even as he hurried over to Phil's bed.

"I don't know—"

"Please. Let me help."

There was no time to waste with heart-to-hearts; not when someone's life was on the line. Bruce assessed his patient swiftly, hands only shaking a little as he peeled back the padding over the stab wound.

"We can do this, if we hurry," he said. "Let's get him to theatre."

* * *

It seemed that the medical staff still had reservations; as soon as Bruce saved Phil (as only he could), they politely asked him to wait outside, along with Tony. The billionaire fumed for awhile, threatening to sue them for discrimination against Hulks and Iron Men.

Steve, of course, saved the situation by asking Tony for help.

"I've been keeping a mental list of things I don't understand," he said.

"Bet it's a long list, Capsicle."

"Don't call me that," Steve snapped. When Tony glared at him, he sighed. "I've lost seventy years of my life – a chance at a family, of seeing the end of the war – thanks to being what you call a 'Capsicle'. Maybe I can laugh about it one day; far, _far_ into the future. But it's still a sore point. So could you just knock it off, and call me… Steve?"

"Fine," Tony grumbled. "What's on this list?"

Bruce half-listened as Tony helped Steve look things up on one of his StarkPads, occasionally tuning in to Clint, Natasha, and Thor's conversation. But there was an ever-present undercurrent of thoughts related to Phil's injury. Sometimes the latest equipment couldn't help; the desperate methods he had used while on the run, treating people in far worse physical condition, were the key to saving Agent Coulson. It was up to the SHIELD medics to tidy up for him, and monitor the patient's vitals.

"…must think highly of you, Bruce."

"Hmm?" He looked around, and realised that Steve was looking at him.

"What d'you mean?" Tony asked. Steve looked at him, then back to Bruce.

"W-well, Agent Coulson said that when you're not, you know, the Hulk, that you're like Stephen Hawking," he said. "I mean, obviously not in a wheelchair or with the robotic voice. He said that this Hawking guy was really smart. I guess that's what he meant."

"Wow," Tony said, raising an eyebrow. "Agent compared you to Stephen Hawking? As in said you were like him?"

"He must admire you a lot," Natasha said, drawing Bruce's baffled attention. "Coulson rarely compliments anyone, and that is a high compliment by anyone's standards."

Bruce hoped his flush wasn't obvious, because he could damn well feel it spreading over his cheeks and… for God's sakes, even down his neck.

Fortunately, a nurse chose that moment to summon them into the room.

"It'll take awhile for him to come round," he said.

"Awhile?" Bruce said. "At least two days. He was stabbed through the chest with a magical spear, and he's just had major surgery. I wouldn't be surprised if it was three or four days before he comes around."

"We'll keep watch," Natasha said.

"There are plenty of security cameras, and if anything goes wrong an alarm will sound," the nurse said. "We know how to do our jobs here, same as you, Agent Romanov. You've had personal experience, remember?"

She looked at him stonily until he conceded defeat, and left them alone with Phil.

* * *

Bruce's estimate was close. Phil woke late on the third day, while Thor and Clint were on watch duty. By the time the rest of the Avengers got there, Phil was sitting up, sipping water, and catching up on the events in Manhattan. Thor's colourful storytelling had them all riveted right to the end. A different nurse and one of the surgeons were just leaving the room, and warned them all not to stay too long.

"I don't mind," Phil said, voice still a bit hoarse from the breathing tube.

"It's not your decision to make, Agent Coulson."

"I signed off on the paperwork for visiting hours—"

"Still not your decision."

"No," Bruce said. "I was your surgeon, and I agree. We won't stay much longer."

Phil's cheeks turned a little pink, and he lowered his gaze. "Yes, doctor."

"Wow, submissive, huh?" Tony said. Phil scowled at him, and Steve quickly changed the topic to the clean-up at SHIELD, and the repairs being made to the Helicarrier. Bruce continued to check Phil's vitals for himself, occasionally interrupting the conversation, and Phil remained pink-cheeked. He couldn't hide his fidgeting, and noticed Tony's smirk in his peripheral vision.

"I'm tired," he claimed. Tony's expression said that he didn't believe Phil; Phil didn't really believe it, either, but damned if he was giving Stark more teasing material.

"It's time for us to go, then," Bruce said, ushering the others out. "I'm just going to talk to Phil for a minute."

"Take your time," Tony said, leering. "I'll bet he likes to play doctor."

Before Bruce could reply to that, Natasha and Clint yanked Tony out of the room. Phil twiddled his thumbs while he waited for Bruce to speak.

"Why did you want me in the Avengers Initiative?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Fury told me that you were the one to push for me to join," Bruce said. "And Steve told me you compared me to Stephen Hawking. Said I was like him."

"I meant intelligence-wise."

"Yeah. Steve pointed out that I'm not in a wheelchair and don't have a robotic voice."

"I think we all noticed that."

Bruce chuckled, and sat on the edge of Phil's bed, close to him. "So it's just my brains you wanted?" he asked. If Phil didn't know any better, he would've called the tone flirtatious.

"I've always thought of you as a hero," he said seriously. "Your work before the…"

"Incident?"

"Accident. And since, as well. I have faith in you. I know you just needed to prove to everyone that you're as deserving of the title 'superhero' as Captain America."

"Oh. Uh—"

"You are, Bruce. I mean," he cleared his sore throat, "Dr. Banner."

"You can call me Bruce," the doctor said, brushing the side of his hand against Phil's arm. "Especially if you let me take you out to dinner. I can't promise much, but… I'd like to try, all the same."

Phil smiled with all the energy he could muster.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd like to have dinner with you."

"As a date. Just in case I needed to clarify that."

"No clarification necessary. A date. Yes."

"Because it looks like you have a crush on me."

Phil looked down again, cheeks turning even redder with mortification. "Yes."

"Good." He glanced up in surprise, and Bruce pecked him on the lips. "Because I think I have a crush on you, too."

* * *

**When did I start this story? January 2013? Bloody hell. Going through all these old, unfinished one-shots of mine, and I'm quite baffled by how old some of them are. It's kind of disconcerting, to be honest. And definitely oops-worthy.**

**Please review! More Coulsmash is required in the fandom.**


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